The Hall of Sweet Music's Throne
by Ray
Summary: Written by Four People. Myself (as Erik,) Amanda (as Christine) David and Merlyn the words between the dialouge. It is not in script format. PG-13 due to the suggestivness. Pardon spelling errors in summary.


Cast

**Erik** - Ray  
**Christine** - Amanda

**Ayesha** - Patch

**Narrators** (i.e. the bits between the words) Merlyn + David.

Note: Both Ray and Amanda are playing those parts in real life. David is playing the part of M. Firmin in real life, so Merlyn and Patch are the only ones not involved with any production of The Phantom of the Opera'.

This was written with the help of AOL Instant Messenger. All flames, comments, reviews, compliments, questions to Ray ([raymond_h_jones@hotmail.com][1]) or Merlyn ([merlyn_dawson@hotmail.com][2])

The Hall of Sweet Music's Throne

"Why do I interest you so much, Christine?" Erik asked, looking down at Christine. He was sitting on his stone throne with his beloved Siamese cat, Ayesha, sleeping upon his knee. Christine was sat on the floor at his feet.

"You make me curious, you are protective of. everything about you." She replied, her eyes searching the face of her masked angel.

"M'selle, my life has taught me to be protective of what I have got," He looked lovingly down at Christine, "moreover, I do not wish to lose you."

Christine looked back at him and spoke softly. "You could not lose me by telling me more of yourself."

"If you indeed did know the truth, you would be afraid." Erik looked down at his feet, "I will however, confess to you my age, I am merely eight years your senior." 

"Your words bring me comfort, I will not be frightened."

"Please Christine, do not make me tell you, you will only be upset,"

"I am not a child, Erik,"

"You must promise me, never to tell another soul what I shall tell you now," he took Christine's soft hand, "promise me." 

Christine griped his hand tight in reassurance. "I promise,"

She sat and listened as Erik began to tell his incredible story. "I was born Erik Muhlheim, the only son of a rich Jewish merchant family in Alsace. I never saw my father, and my mother was terrified of me. She could not look upon me without fear. For my fifth birthday, my mother and our neighbour organised a party for me. The only presents I requested were that my mother kissed me twice," Christine shook her head sadly. "One for the moment and one for later. She fled in a rage, throwing me my mask; she refused to grant me my simple request. My fifth was the only party I was ever given."

"A party?" Christine said in surprise.

"I was allowed out of the house, and to eat the grand food my parents and sister ate. Just for that day. My father never attended the table." He explained in a sorrowful tone.

"How is it that you can call them parents, after they treated you so badly?"

"I do not know." Erik shook his head sadly. "I believe it is out of fear that my mother abused me as such, her own fear and a fear for me."

"Fear is no excuse."

Erik ignored this remark. "The only thing in that house that did not flinch upon seeing me, was my mothers dog, Sasha. She was always affectionate towards me, and I loved her very much." He looked down with loving eyes at his cat. It was true that Erik had always show remarkable kindness and friendship with animals. "After my party, the house was attacked and I received a stab wound. I had to be drugged so that the doctor could treat the injury," he looked at his arm shortly. "I do not hate or scorn my mother. I do not feel love for her, I do not feel anything for her."

"Did you feel any love towards her?"

"I never felt anything for her, but I very much wanted to be loved by her."

"Though you have sought love, have you ever found it?"

"Only with you," he took her hand once more and gazed into her beautiful eyes. "I love you more than I can say in my words, or in my music." He smiled, but soon his smile faded as he remembered another incident in his life. "When I was eight years old I was captured by gypsies and sold to a _chorody_. I was put on display as the Living Corpse' for several years. During this time I was humiliated and abused. I dare not tell you the abuses, for you would only hate me." 

Christine looked away. "I could never hate you, I love you dearly Erik, although not in the way you love me, I fear."

Erik looked at her. "Very well, Christine. I shall tell you of the torments that have been inflicted upon me, I beg of you to stop me if you can bare it no longer."

"I assure you I will do so," she placed a hand upon his knee.

"I was tied up with my arms outstretched, as though I was on a crucifix, and there I was pelted with rotting fruit and horse manure. I was locked in a cage, m'selle, with a noose around my neck to hold my head up; this was because I would often run to the corner and cover my face with my hands. My _owner _would often beat me horrendously, if I did not come nearer to the bars." He stroked Ayesha, "I would try to kill myself by not eating, but for this I was force-fed. I had to live day and night in the locked cage, with no privacy; I would have to sleep on the sodden straw." Erik began to cry, "He, tried to" he broke down and sobbed bitterly, "toto rape me," he placed his head in his hands. Christine threw her arms round Erik and kissed his forehead softly.

"Speak no more of it,"

"I shall not," He looked at Christine. Tears fell from her eyes and ran down her soft cheek. "I did not wish to hurt you with my unfortunate past." 

"You have not hurt me Erik, I cry for you, not for myself."

"My past is not all gloom, though. I can recall several happy, if comical moments." He took Christine's hand. "Oh, Christine," he leaned closer to her; ready to kiss those divine lips he yearned for so badly. Ayesha jumped angrily from his knee and hissed at Christine, making her jump, spoiling the moment. "She is jealous," Erik smiled. "I shall speak of my happy moments, I was with the _freak _show for nine years, escaping at the tender age of seventeen. I travelled around the world, finally settling in Persia in the service to the Sultana. I was engaged in the construction of a hall of mirrors for her. I would often have to keep her amused, otherwise she would become quite impossible."

"Singing?" Christine asked.

"Oui, I would sing for her. Back then I was able to sing soprano, sadly my voice broke into the sombre tenor you hear me sing." 

"You sing beautifully," she sighed. "Like an angel." Realising what she had said she blushed, "forgive me," 

Erik smiled. "I forgive you and I thank you for the compliment." He cleared his throat. "I did not please the Sultana once day and she threatened to make me a eunuch and allow me to carry my genitals in a _small _jar. To which I replied that she could not be so sure that a _small _jar would contain me." 

Christine smiled at him. "Indeed, you can prove such a thing?"

"I can indeed prove it, m'selle, however I wish to keep my genitals a secret from you, until such a night as we marry." Christine went pale and stammered.

"M. marry?"

Erik took her hand. "Christine, I wish you to be my bride." Christine seemed unable to respond. 

"I."

"Please Christine."

She appeared very upset that Erik was making her decide now. "Erik,"

"I am rushing? I apologise, I am so used to losing things, I rush sometimes." 

Christine nodded. "You have obviously been thinking about this,"

"I do not wish to lose you to that idiot child, Raoul."

"He is no more a child than I," She replied, taking her hand from Erik's cold grasp.

"But he is foolish, an idiot. He does not appreciate what he does not have, and therefore could never love you as such."

Christine closed her eyes. "Erik - he also. he also has asked for my hand in marriage." Erik fell back into his throne, heart broken.

"No" he breathed deeply. 

She put her hand on his chest. "Please, Erik."

"Christine, do not take his hand, please, it would hurt me so much if you did, I love you more than I can say, please." He was crying now, he took her hand from his chest and held it close to his unmasked side. Christine was overcome with emotion and fainted. He bent down next to her. "Christine, this is why I never spoke of my past before," he got up to collect the smelling salts to bring Christine round from her dead faint.

Christine slowly opened her eyes and found Erik looking down at her. "Oh my."

"I am sorry," he offered her, his strong left hand to help her rise. She hesitated before taking it; she was superstitious and left was always a sign of evil. He appeared to realise. "Yes, I have always been thought of as evil for being left handed." She took his hand and got up, facing him.

"No, I am sorry, I should not have told you about Raoul, but you should know - I refused him." Erik looked suddenly happy.

"Christine," he smiled. She appeared pleased that he again was happy.

"Erik, would you sing with me?" she asked.

"Oui, but first I must attend to an urgent need."

Christine smiled at him. "Certainly." Erik left the room, leaving her alone. Christine looked around the room she was in. The piano stood in the corner; she cautiously advanced looking at the music set on the stand. Her eyes were drawn to an old oak chest of drawers stood in the corner. She did not know why, but she began to search through them. Looking through them, she found they contained certain mischiefs from Erik's travels and other personal belongings. A bundled of papers lay in the corner of the bottom draw, tied with a red ribbon. They had her name upon them, written in Erik's poor scrawl. As if drawn to them, Christine picked the first letter off the top. She knew that reading them was wrong, but she simply had to know what Erik had written to her. Breaking the seal of red wax, this was a monogram of Erik's initials E.M' she began to read the letter aloud to herself. Eriks' writing was child-like, and smudged in places, but she was able to read the writing. 

"'Christine, you have brought me to the moment when words run dry, where speech disappears into silence. I have long since imagined our bodies entwining; defenceless, and silent. In you mind you've all ready succumbed to me, dropped all defences, now you are here with me'" a sharp cough made her jump and drop the letter back into the draw. She shoved the draw shut and backed slowly away.

"What were you doing in my draws? If you can pardon the pun,"

"I. I could not resist temptation, nor could you apparently fasten your trousers back up," she was shocked that Erik had returned in the state of un-dress he had returned in. Erik ignored her comment about his trousers, and grabbed Christine's wrist. 

"Tell me! Why did you break the seal? Why did you take something that was not yours?" He was angry, and beginning to hurt her with his vice like grip.

Christine struggled to escape his grip. "Erik you are hurting me!" He held her tighter.

"WHY?!"

She was unable to breathe now. "Because, because." She slapped Erik with her free hand, Erik let go his leave on Christine, he was crying. 

"Why did you have to be like other women? Why did you have to be so curious?" He sobbed.

Christine rubbed her wrist where he had gripped her. "I. I don't know." Erik fell to his knees, obviously upset that he had hurt Christine as well as what she had done.

"Oh Christine, I did not mean to hurt you," he was crying harder, choking on his words. "Please forgive me," She made him get up.

"Don't you ever do that Erik. never get on your knees to me, it should be me begging you for forgiveness." She took his hand. "Forgive me, please,"

"I forgive you," She nodded and loosened the back of her dress so that she could breathe again. "Please do not read what I have written without my permission," he took the letter from the floor where it had dropped, and held it over the candle, setting it alight. "Plus, I cannot bare to see you struggle to read my poor writing." 

"I should leave, I have outstayed my welcome." She turned to leave.

Erik took her hand. "No, please do not go." He sat down at the piano. "Come sing with me," 

Christine went to stand next to him and looked down at him. She coughed. "Er - Erik you need to do up some buttons you have over looked." She tightened her dress again.

Erik blushed, "Oh I apologise." He turned his back upon her to fasten the buttons he had missed. 

She smiled. "It does not matter." He turned back and smiled. He sat with his hands poised above the keys of the piano.

"What would you care to sing?" She shook her head again, in awe of him. 

"Play whatever you wish, and I shall sing." Erik began to play a sweet, but sorrowful tune on the piano, Christine was about to sing but the music was so beautiful and sad that she did not wish to interrupt Eriks' playing. Instead she sank back on the couch and listened. He began to sing in a language Christine did not know. The words appeared to float on his soft tenor. Christine closed her eyes and allowed Eriks' singing and playing wash over her, sending her into a dream-like trance.

A soft voice from outside called "Christine? Christine?" 

Erik slammed his hands down hard on the piano keys, he gave a snarl and turned to Christine, his face twisted and contorted with rage. "YOU TOLD SOMEONE WERE YOU WHERE!"

Christine shrank back in terror. "NoI told no-one!" She was upset that Erik could possibly think that she had betrayed and given away his secret. She was terrified at what Erik would do to her. "R. Raoul?" she asked softly.

"You speak his name! Ha! You lied to me Christine!"

"No!"

"YOU HAVE LIED TO ME!"

"I would not!"

Erik bellowed at the top of his lungs. "YOU SWORE TO ME THAT YOU TOLD NO MAN YOU WHERE HERE, AND YET YOU HAVE LIED TO ME!" Christine leaned forward and kissed him passionately, making shut up and in a hope that Raoul would have time to get away before Erik did something terrible to him. He pushes her away, "you little lying Delilah! How can you swear to me, and then deny me, and then try to make me forget?"

"I did not. HeI would not tell him-he is nothing to me." She pushed him onto the couch, leaning over him and kissing him tenderly on the lips. Erik shut up and began to enjoy the moment. 

"Oh Christine, I want you so badly." She put a finger on his lips and halted all contact with him, knowing she had seen that Erik would no shout or scare her again. "I am sorry, I should not have shouted." 

Christine stood up straight and smoothed down her soft blue dress. "Forget it" she had deliberately halted what she was doing to Erik, she was not ready to commit to him in that way yet, and she had wanted keep him distracted whilst Raoul escaped. 

"Are you tired?" he asked, sitting back up.

"Extremely." She replied.

"Then I shall let you rest,"

"Thank-you," Erik took her hand and led her to the room he had created for her in his home.

"Good Night," Christine entered the room, and splashed cool water onto her face from the bowl of water that stood on the dresser. She wondered if Raoul was still outside or if he had the sense to leave. Erik entered the room and closed the curtain on the little window he had built into the room. Christine lay down on the bed, still fully dressed. She did not like the darkness.

"Sleep well, my bride, we shall finish what we began to-morrow." He closed the door with a soft click. Christine stared up at the canopy above the bed. Did she really hear what Erik had said before he left? As sleep slowly overcame Christine, she thought about the voice that Erik had heard outside, had it really been Raoul or was Erik imaging things?

THE END

Erik, Christine and Raoul belong to Gaston Leroux; Ayesha belongs to Susan Kay. Elements of Erik's past have come from different books and sources. Ray and Amanda own the conversation that took place between Erik and Christine (otherwise, their agents would get mad.) David and Merlyn own the dialogue that takes place in-between Christine and Erik speaking. 

Ray (Erik) and Amanda (Christine) are playing their respective characters on different tours and with different companies. Questions can be sent to either Ray or Merlyn, Amanda does not wish to have her e-mail address revealed at this point. 

   [1]: mailto:raymond_h_jones@hotmail.com
   [2]: mailto:merlyn_dawson@hotmail.com



End file.
